Somebody I Used to Know
by SassenachStarbuck
Summary: What would it be like if Severus Snape had a second chance at life?


Team: Ballycastle Bats

 **Position: Beater 1**

 **A/N: This is for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Round 10.**

 **Beater 1 Prompt: Write about a character thought to be 'dead' coming back to life.**

 **Additional Prompts: 2. (object) potion vial, 13. (setting) a graveyard, 14. (dialogue) "Sure, let's all get matching tattoos and we can dance the polka."**

 **Disclaimer: J.K. owns us all.**

 **Word Count: 985**

Dusty tombstones littered the abandoned and ancient graveyard located on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. It had been twelve years since the battle to end all battles had almost decimated the tiny cemetery and the town it belonged to. It seems not much had changed since the Final Battle. The Battle having been the last night anyone knew him as his former self, as the sour old Potions Professor, Severus Snape. Among the anti venom, and blood replenishers, kept hidden away in the folds of his robes that he always carried on his person during the war. He also carried various potion vials he thought might be useful in unforeseeable situations. Anticoagulants, and pepper-up, even the occasional felix ficilis among the many in his undetectable extension charmed pockets.

One of which was a de-aging potion, using that vial and mixing it with a strong permanent glamour charm. No one else had been the wiser. He liked it that way, it had let him leave a peaceful shopkeepers life out of the public eye. He only had to renew the charms every once in awhile, so it was around this time he tried to make his way back to the cemetery. He felt at home whenever he was able to visit. He considered it the place of his rebirth. A place he could come and reflect on his past, the past of a person he no longer knew. Himself.

To any that might pass him on the street, they would see a broad, but lean young man aged 35 years now. Wavy brown replaced the long stringy locks of midnight hair. Piercing eyes now a honey shade, just light enough for no one to take a second look. No more crooked nose that had become his classic identifier.

Well no one had taken a second look, that was until he had decided to expand his Apothecary shop to a second location. The new premises were located in Diagon Alley. It only took three months from the first time he saw her when she stopped in for a few ingredients, before the pretty young witch that frequented the shop started frequenting his thoughts and his dreams. He knew that although he was closer to 50 than the 35 years that the public saw since undergoing his transformation, he had the feelings that any human craves and he had been without comfort for so long. Just wanting the connection to someone he could call his own. He couldn't help but enjoy the witch's affections and attentions when she was in his shop. He loved watching her delicately moving the vials around on the shelves until she would find the exact one she needed. Her cheeks blushing prettily as she would pay for her purchase, flirting a little, and promising to come in again on her next break from her job in the DRCMC, the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

It was then, while he was sitting pondering the emotions this witch brought to the surface that he could sense another magical person enter the graveyard, and mentally winced when he didn't notice how his wand slid into his hand effortlessly. Old habits and the like. Whoever was visiting the graveyard at this hour must be crazy like himself, or coincidentally was there looking for him. They weren't trying to be sneaky about it either. Leaves crunching and twigs snapping as they loudly made their way to where he had perched on a fallen log in the corner.

There about six meters away was his Witch. Her firewhisky curls haphazardly waving in the wind.

"I knew I would find you here." she said with more confidence than her body language possesed.

"Really, and how did you come to that conclusion, love?" I replied, realizing she could possibly hear my pounding heart as she stomped closer.

"Do you realize that I researched for years, before finally resigning to the truth. That I had figured out all the pieces. I told Harry that none of it made since. He didn't listen, no one listened" she sighed.

My stomach lurched, so she did know. The Brightest Witch of Her Age and all that rubbish. Have these last few months been research for her then?

"What would you like me to say?" I whispered in defeat.

It would soon be time to pack my things and hide away, de-aging potions apparently aren't the best disguise. I would have to go somewhere with no connections to my past. Maybe to the States. I've already mentally organized plans B, C, and D, before she finally responds.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice sounding genuinely hurt.

"What was I supposed to say Hermione, 'Hey remember me, your horrible Potions Professor, whom the whole of the Wizarding world believes to be dead, isn't really but doesn't want to face the public.' I don't think that was the best way to stay hidden. Not that it really worked now did it?" I said, bitterness dripping from every word.

"But after all these years, you must realize by now the Wizarding world doesn't care. You were cleared, you were given an Order of Merlin, for Godric's sake. Harry just wants to have closure. He wanted you to know that he did everything for you there in the end."

"It was all a very long time ago, I just wanted to move on with my life. I didn't want to have to answer to anyone anymore." I told her, eyes still downcast.

"Things would not have been as horrible as you have imagined. We could all be friends, sitting around, having a pint, instead of all cloak and dagger in the graveyard." she huffed.

"Sure, let's all get matching tattoos and we can dance the polka." I told her sarcastically.

"Well let's start with a date, plus Harry can only do the Waltz." Hermione replied.


End file.
